Swan song
by Mizu-Tenshi
Summary: Did you know? The mute swan sings just once in its lifetime a song of death. But Makoto is no swan and Yuuichi is no swan prince.


My first Kanon fic. It's based on the anime remake and is of course centrered around Makoto. Based around the time Yuuichi wanted Makoto to do all the things that she wanted to do before that time on the hill.

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The swan song

Makoto would not live to see the spring. Even though Yuuichi knew that, he could still pray for a miracle. Even though he knew that a miracle was not going to happen, he could still hope. Even though he knew that hoping would not change the reality of things, it made him feel just a little better about it.

Stuck somewhere between anger and helplessness, he had partly resided himself to just making sure that the time Makoto had left was not wasted.

As he walked through the shopping district, caught in dire thoughts and sombre feelings, he caught sight of that characteristic rd-orange hair, just like a fox's fur. Makoto was staring at a karaoke bar, watching as people passed in and out of it.

Yuuichi paused, unsure if he should approach her, if he could approach her without betraying his feelings, his fears, to her. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself and walked towards her. She was so engrossed by the large red sign that she did not even notice him sneaking up on her.

"Do you want to go in?"

"Yuu -" she yelped, backing away from the one who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. "No! I was…I was looking at this!" she hastily grabbed the first thing that she could lay her hands on – a poetry leaflet. Hastily flicking through it to cover her embarrassment, she stuttered, "The…the silver swan…"

"The silver swan, who living had no Note,

when Death approached, unlocked her silent throat.

Leaning her breast upon the reedy shore,

thus sang her first and last, and sang no more," he read over her shoulder, causing her to yelp and jump back in fright.

"It's not a nice poem," she muttered.

"Really? Don't you think it's romantic?" he grinned.

"It's not romantic at all! Only you would think that!" Makoto pouted.

Yuuichi laughed and flicked the air out of her inflact cheek, causing her to growl and make an offended 'Auu' sound. He tried not to let his fear show through, that perhaps, one day soon, that would be all tht she would be able to say.

The sound of snow falling softly over the town seemed to be all that filled the cold air. There was nothing but snow falling down like white feathers from above.

"Hey, Makoto, did you know? They say that the mute swan sings only once in its life but that song is more beautiful than anything else," closing his eyes, he took a deep breath of cold air, feeling it fill his lungs to the brim. When he turned back, he was smiling again. "Think that you can sing that well?" he asked teasingly.

She glared at him and cried, "Leave me alone!" storming into the karaoke bar, but he could tell that she was hoping for him to follow her. She kept glancing over her shoulder whenever she thought that he was not looking.

Yuuichi waited and then followed her into the bar. She had chosen a small room with a coin operated slot. He waited just outside the door, hiding himself from view whilst she frowned and tried to figure out how the machine worked.

She managed to select an easy song from the long list without much trouble, although she almost trpped over the microphone wired. Yuuichi almpst felt like going in and sorting her out but he reamined by the door, keeping it slightly open so that he could hear her.

Her singing was a mess. She barely knew the words and the ones she did not know she hummed. On the low notes her voice dropped to whisper and the high notes she omitted whenever her voice came closer to breaking. Her singing was tuneless and wavering, no one but the completely deaf would have paid to put her single out.

Yet nevertheless, it was beautiful. As wavering as her voice was, no matter how often she jumbled the words, it overflowed with her sense of self. It was as if everything was packed into each warbling note she uttered. All the wishes and dreams, all the hopes and regrets that she ever had overflowed and spilled from her throat.

He watched in silence. Somehow, it felt as if he was being overwhelmed. The room was drenched in memories being drawn up and enticed out. Memories of eating together, memories of reading together, memories of afternoon snacks and midnight escapades, dreams of the future, dreams of looking back on the past and thinking 'ah, it wasn't so bad.'

Every simple dream, every meagre wish seemed permanently pressed to Makoto's lips - dreams and wishes that would never come true.

They say that the mute swan sings just one song in its lifetime – a song of death – and that song is so heartbreakingly beautiful that in that instant all the pain and fear of death is erased in a blinding white light. But Makoto was no swan, she was just a fox. She could not even sing, and the pain would not go away.

He must have moved too suddenly or kicked something by accident for she turned around at a sound too sharp for his ears to catch. The movement made her stop and spin around.

"So you did follow me!" she frowned at him accusingly.

"Come on, it's getting late," he sighed as he entered the room, fully prepared to deal with a long round of Makoto-branded obstinacy. "By the way," he added, "your singing is terrible."

"No one asked you!" she yelled, red faced with embarrassment and anger.

Yuuichi smiled sympathetically and fished out another microphone from the side of the machine. Makoto was no swan; she was just a fox that had wanted to meet him again. Yet even if the pain would not go away, they could share it between the two of them – a seemingly unending sorrow just for them.

"Let's sing, Makoto," he offered, pointing to coin slot at the bottom of the machine. "It's a waste if you don't use up the rest of your credit."

"Who would want to sing with you?" she snapped but nevertheless she did not refuse him.

He doubted that either of them could sing a fine swan song but that hardly mattered. This moment, after all, was Makoto's last song.

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End file.
